).There are Two Sides to Every Story · 10:39am Jul 23rd, 2012
I can't say I anticipated him getting loose. It wasn't a day that showed any of the usual signs. I suppose I'll have to tighten my hold and hope for the best.
He's right, about some things. His reasoning on other matters is flawed by the very nature of his existence. He can't have it right because he is only half the story.
It's not a multiple personality disorder, and it's not a schizoid disorder. He and I are one and the same, though we're a long way from being a unified whole.
I supress him, most of the time. I have to, otherwise his depth of feeling and despair would kill me. Outright. By that same virtue, I have to let him out every so often, otherwise I begin to lose control of him.
He's correct in saying I'm largely numb, but only comparatively to him. If I felt like he did, all the time, I'd be a gibbering wreck. I have to maintain a pseudo-objective facade or else collapse under the weight of the collective negative thoughts and feelings of those around me.
He's wrong about the name, it's not ironic. The mere fact I continue to contain him is evidence that I still want to carry on, most of the time at least. I don't know whether he means what he says, his flare for the dramatic and the obscure makes interpepreting the true strength of his intent an exercise in madness.
I don't know which of us predates the other. He thinks he's older but how do you define one of us without the other? It wasn't always this way. I know sometimes we get along, and other times we don't. Such is the relationship between captor and captive.
He's right about most things, I can't outright refute anything he says. He has a way with words and an argumentative style that makes it hard. He got most of the passionate linguism, and I got the impassionate. He cuts right to the heart of the issue, and well, thinking about it isn't my prerogative. It's another way I keep us both from falling down the rabbit hole.
He's wrong about one key aspect of our nature though. He is right to think that he is the core of me, but he can't see to the core of himself. In the depths of that tortured heart I can see that which sustains us both. The eternal flame of hope. It looks like a mere candle flame from here but it hasn't burnt out yet
Onwards, the dawn has to break sometime soon.
Graah, I don't really want to ruin the moment, but there's something I really want to point out: If we're not supposed to dismiss this as merely theatrics and actually help you out a little bit, a little more detail instead of metaphor wouldn't go amiss.